“Never trust any who treats a waiter badly.”
~ Anyone with a soul
I’ve had a lot of jobs in my life. I worked my way through my twenties as a cashier in a supermarket while many of my friends waited tables, catered and tended bar. Based on our nightly bitch sessions, I can tell you without hesitation that selling people food and serving it to them are two completely different experiences.
Food service is grueling work. And absolutely soul-sucking if people aren’t nice. Nobody has to lick your face or nibble your neck—just your standard issue basic human decency nice would suffice.
I’ve sat at tables with snippy divas. Women who are prickly, easily annoyed—on the lookout for trouble. It has always been my belief that if you’re lookin’ for trouble, trouble will not only find you, it will pull up a chair, order a drink, charge it to your tab, and over-stay its welcome.
We all know these women. They huff and puff and send stuff back. They act indignant, dis-respected. Like me when I get carded.
They don’t like the look of the lettuce, the ice is too cold or the coffee tastes burnt—so they shame the staff. Seriously? The only time I ever sent something back was when my wine glass had a lipstick stain on the rim and I hadn’t sipped from it yet. And I apologized so profusely my husband had to shoot me some stink-eye to shut me up.
Listen, I’m not particularly judgy. But be forewarned. I WILL judge you harshly for treating people in the service industry rudely.
That includes being a cheap tipper.
Lots of folks supplement a lousy salary with commission or tips. It can be the difference between making ends meet and having to pick up a second job. Please, think of that the next time you’re tempted to hand the young guy who ran three blocks, in the rain, to fetch your car—a lousy buck.
I’ve seen that.
One measly dollar. You know what one dollar buys these days? Uh…nothing.
Same with the young man or woman who spends twenty minutes hand drying your car at the car wash. I saw a lady hand the guy next to me ONE dollar after he not only hand dried, but at her insistence spent extra time cleaning and shining up the chrome rims on her giant SUV—in ninety-degree weather.
You could smell the stingy. Don’t be that lady.
Get change if you have to, but please be a decent tipper. Trust me, that person needs the cash a lot more than you do.
At least that’s what I tell myself when I’m tempted to be cheap. I’m not immune to feeling broke but if I have the good fortune to spring for a mani-pedi, or get my car washed, park valet or go out to lunch—I’m better off than most.
This seems to be a time of me or them. I might suggest that we find some common ground. Like hard work, industriousness, and hustle—and the fact that we’ve all been there. Then it’s just us.
Right?
Carry on,
xox
